


Haunted

by mimkah



Series: Haunted [1]
Category: Psycho Break - Fandom, The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Fluff, Grief, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I'll keep adding tags as i release chapters, Nothing like a psycho artist to bring you out of a long hiatus..., Post-STEM, Pre-STEM, Romance, Sex, Unplanned Pregnancy, beacon - Freeform, puking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-11 21:36:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16860721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimkah/pseuds/mimkah
Summary: You lost the man you loved to something.. unimaginable.The extreme grief you suffered lead you to find that critic-abused artwork.. Dark, grim, bleak... and soon after, you found yourself in his arms. As his work of art.You find yourself with his child, and like all things in your life, he disappears, too. Only to come back with a bloody thirst for what he's claimed as "his"...and he won't stop till he gets what's his.





	1. Symptoms

**Author's Note:**

> It started as a oneshot.. and now I have a full plot idea!  
> Reader doesn't know she's pregnant... yet
> 
> Update: rewrote a few things, added, deleted, etc. Too lazy to update on tumblr, but will also be posting on there. s-t-e-m

When your mornings were plagued with nausea and exasperating headaches that seemed to never go away (despite upping your water intake, like the internet said so!), you didn’t take it seriously. You shrugged it off to being overworked, stressed out over balancing work and social life. The headaches? Just too much caffeine. It’s all you’ve been ingesting lately to try to keep up with your duties. Even when your breasts felt sore, you smiled and took it as remnants of the rough nights you spent with your lover, Stefano, when you both had time. Which, lately, was not much. You would slip a kiss to him when nobody was looking at his gallery events. One time, the two of you ended up entangled in the janitors closet to make up for time spent apart.

Between juggling keeping up with art exhibitions of your own or your favorite photographer, social life, and your occasional sitting jobs, some days you didn’t even get a chance to shower without immediately passing out into your flannel sheets. You would lose track of everything.. The energy was just gone. 

~uwu~

 

You wake up one night, your head pounding from all sides and an unfamiliar acidic taste in your mouth. Your ( e/c) eyes squinted at the clock on the wall. 3 am… Damn. At least you have nothing planned for today. It was the first time in a long time you could lay in bed, chill, and be able to breathe for a moment.

Your gaze shifted to the empty spot beside you. Stefano wasn’t with you, again. Another late night working in his studio. But what else did you expect from that dashing artist? Ever since he lost his eye, he’s been in there much more often than usual. You two have not shared many nights with each other lately, despite having keys to each others apartment. Always working, always moving. 

You missed him. Maybe later today you two could...

A wave of intense nausea hits you, breaking away from your thoughts. Your facial features scrunching up as the acidic feeling intensifies. You felt something rise into your throat.

Oh no. 

Despite the throbbing pain in your temples, you stagger out of the warmth of your bed and through the bedroom door. The cool feeling of porcelain against your flushed skin is comforting as your stomach emptied itself into the cold abyss.

You feel like  _ an absolute disaster,  _ coughing out bits and spitting out foul tasting saliva. Your head felt like it was going to explode, and you felt a ringing in your ear. Pulling back from the toilet, you thought you were safe for a moment, trying to get some air into your system. With wobbly legs, you tried to stand up to wash your mouth out, immediately regretting it as you were pulled back to the floor by force of necessity, returning to your vomiting refuge. 

During the violent emission of your insides, you didn’t hear the door to your apartment unlock and open, nor did you hear the trademark clicking of dress shoes along the tile floor, towards your teary-eyed safe haven. You coughed up the last bits into the toilet after a moment of respite, a sleepy hand reaching out to flush it of its contents and finally falling back against the tub. Your head was pounding.

“Did you have too much to drink,  _ mia cara? _ ” a smooth Italian voice piped up, catching your attention.. “Or maybe your intense longing for me made you ill?” 

You smile despite your pain, looking up at your favorite artist. He had on a black suit with his favorite red scarf, although unbuttoned and scarf undone. He looked tired, too. 

“Oh, yes… an italian a day keeps the illness at bay, I’ve noticed.” you groaned, struggling to rise, muscles feeling like mush. You felt his firm gloved hands around your waist, helping you to your feet. Your (e/c) eyes gazed longingly at Stefanos face, your heart surging with love. “Welcome back home,  _ Valentini _ .” You smiled, feeling his face with your hand. You thought you smelled blood, but brushed it off, thinking it was your acid-attacked senses malfunctioning.

“Home.. That is where the heart is, no?” Stefano pulled back a piece of your hair, a smile poking at the corners of his lips. “And you just so happen to be in the lavatory, emptying your stomach. I suppose this is home now.”

“I thought that would be your studio.” You mumble and laugh, shifting to turn the sink on. Splashing your face with cold water and washing your mouth out immediately made you feel better, cooling you down and ridding you of the awful taste in your mouth.

“Ah, you got me there.” Stefano held your hair back as you washed up, leaning against the doorway. “I’ll make the exception.. just for you,  _ mia dolce _ .” You pull yourself back up and stare at him in the mirror, a mouthful of minty wash swishing inside. You smile at him, rolling your eyes and spitting out the blue liquid, rinsing your mouth out one more time with water.

“I’m honored, truly.” You say, turning to him and rubbing your eyes. You felt more tired than before… 

“You should be,  _ mia cara _ . Not often an artist of my calibre would place their lover’s restroom above his own work.” He grinned, planting a kiss on your forehead. You shivered, leaning into his chest and breathing him in, heart surging with longing. 

“Stefano.. How is your eye?” You asked, pulling away from him to gaze at the bandaged orifice hidden beneath his hair.You noticed him stop for a moment, avoiding your gaze, before looking down at you and holding your pale face in his hands. 

“It’s still gone… but that hasn’t stopped me. It has inspired me even more to continue..” He sighed, shaking away the thought and smiling. “Let’s get you back into bed,  _ il mio amore malato _ . You are not the only one in need of rest.” With those words, he scooped you up into his arms, you slapping the light off before he stepped out, and brought you back into your bed. He set you down carefully and pulled away, removing his scarf and blazer. 

“I know it has, Stefano..” you yawned, pulling the blankets back up as you watched him undress and slip into a pair of the striped pants he leaves for his nights here, the heaviness in your eyes overwhelming to take you immediately. “But I want you more..” 

You feel his warm form slip into bed with you and you instinctively snuggle up to him, feeling his hands brush through your hair gently. The sensation made you shiver as you take your place on his chest, drifting away for the rest of the night. 

“I am yours,  _ mia cara. _  Just as you are mine. Only mine.” 


	2. Encounter | Cravings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A memory of the first time you met Detective Sebastian Castellanos.. | Your cravings are persistent and you have some time with Stefano before the gallery event tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be putting little memories in the beginning of each chapter to give the Reader and the story more background. Some chapters might be exclusively memories, depending on how I feel when writing it. This one I cut a bit short because I want to get more chapters rolling, and I am tired. uwu

_~May 2012_

It was another night at the Krimson City Lounge that you were sat at the polished wood bar, although this time you were not enjoying a sweet drink, chatting up a friendly storm with a colleague, no. Tonight, your demons were catching up and this was your battle against them. Not the greatest tactic, but… war is war, and it worked.  For a time, until the cycle repeated itself. With one swift movement, the brown liquid in your tiny glass rushed down your throat and slowly warmed you up. It wasn’t packed tonight, but a few other patrons lit up the cozy establishment with some laughter and talk.

“I’m here for a good time, not a long one.” You said with a grin, pushing back the empty shot glasses across the bar table. Marcus, the bartender you have gotten to know a little too well, shook his head and scoffed, although with a smile.

“(Y/n), at least get some water in you. Or some food? It's not a good idea with the amount you drink...” A glass of icy water appeared before you faster than you could protest, and despite the original plan to get hammered quick, you accepted it. At least the hangover might be a little less… severe? You tugged at the straight neck of your wine coloured sweater, adjusting it back to its horizontal cut.

“You’ve seen me take shot after shot with barely a buzz, Marcus. I’m going to be fine. But I’ll accept your offer of some sliced bread and...cheese?” You smile at the older man, watching him laugh and disappear into the back. Your eyes moved away from him and to your glass of water. Watching the condensation form on the glass was relaxing as you felt the darkness of your mind creeping in. You’ve only had a glass of rum and five shots of your favorite, cinnamon whiskey, yet you feel nothing. Disappointing, but… you had time tonight. No gallery, no side jobs, nothing. The least you could do was enjoy it all.

The door to the bar opened with a jingle, and your head turned to see who the newest addition was. A tall man, white dress shirt and waistcoat made his way through the door. Undone, uncaring. Tired eyes, messy hair, and a darkening five o’clock shadow.. You noticed the KCPD badge peeking out of his little pocket. You quickly glanced away, although your gaze resumed as he passed you by, the smell of his cologne sending a flutter through your heart…. You weren’t drunk that fast, were you?

The plate of bread Marcus set before you startled you out of your almost… longing gaze, and the bartender laughed. “ Detective Sebastian Castellanos! The usual?” he asked the man as he sat down at a booth, already working on his usual order.

Sebastian Castellanos… you went over his name in your head, picking up one of the slices of cheesy bread and taking a bite. You chewed cautiously, watching Marcus deliver the detective his drink, barely looking up as it was placed before him, his attention deep in one of many files. As he returned, you looked at him with a sheepish look on your face. “Does he always come here to work..?” You tried to avert.

“I see that look,” Marcus said, wiping down the surface of the bar with a rag from his apron.

“I don’t,” you say with a mouthful of cheesy bread, signaling with a nod and a finger for another drink. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” Marcus shook his head, pulling out a clean glass and pouring the brown colored rum into the glass, and bringing it to your awaiting person. He leaned closer to you, aimlessly wiping down the bartop again.  

“Don't kid me, (y/n). I’ve worked here 20 years, I know what I saw in that look.” he chuckled, his brown eyes falling on the detective, already finished with his glass. “He’s been coming here a lot more lately… Must be tough after losing your kid, and your marriage falling apart.”

“Oh, he’s a married man… ” You bite on your inner mouth, taking a sip of the alcohol and looking back at the detective. “Maybe we can both relish in the grief of loss and to be lost, then?”

“I’ve seen a few women try their luck on him, but he hardly batted an eye at any of them... “ Marcus was interrupted by the call of a group of patrons, stuffing the rag into his apron as he answered to their call. “You can try, though. It won’t hurt….maybe.” He laughed, walking off to the rowdy group on the far side.

You sighed, shoving the last bit of your snack into your mouth and looking back at the detective. He was definitely attractive, you couldn’t deny that. Could you even talk to him? Did you want to? If he still had a wife, there was no point in trying for any romance… The detective’s face turned into a frown as he rubbed his face with his free hand, slapping the file down on the table. He looked tired. As he looked up, you quickly turned away, slumping back in your chair and closing your eyes to think. Maybe you should..  at least the company would be nice, married or not. Maybe that would be better than a hangover.

You waited for Marcus’ return, taking a swig of your own beverage, trying to force an iron will. You might as well. Your intentions may seem questionable, but above all, you just want company. As Marcus returned with empty glasses, you took one final gulp of your own drink and set the glass down, replacing it with the water and taking a long drink, to please your friend.

“Marcus, give me what he likes. And I'll take another whiskey.” you smiled,

“So two then… I see that fire in you.” Marcus laughed, quickly prepping the two drinks and setting them before you. “Good luck.”

With a deep breath, you stand up, taking the two drinks in your hand, and muster all your courage as you make your way to the detective.  

Setting the glass before him, you take your seat across from him an d take a sip of your own, blood pumping from anxiety. 

“You look like you could use a friend. Or another pair of eyes.” 

  
  
  
  
  


__

* * *

 

  
  
  
  
  
  


Mid March, 2017

Stefano and you were lounging about in your kitchen, sitting on the tall chairs surrounding the small island. You were reading a novel you’ve been meaning to finish for about a year now, while he was sorting through new photographs he had printed as samples for the gallery event later tonight you two would attend. 

“Stanotte è la notte, mia dolce!” Stefano exclaimed, looking up from the file of his printed works, icy blue gaze watching you shove yet  _ another _ strawberry into your mouth with your free hand. It's the second carton now. The first one you took down last night with more (homemade!) whipped cream than you have had in your life, while sobbing into your blanket watching _ Planet Earth _ . He looked at you curiously, amused. “Another night where the uneducated masses will be shown true art..”

“It’s been quite some time since we’ve gone to something this… refine, though, hasn’t it?” You reply, throwing the small bit of leaves into the designated ‘leaf bowl’ and wiping your hand of the juices on a towel. You noticed your weight gain lately, and you were not happy about going out with how self-conscious you felt.. And despite the time of day, around 4 in the afternoon now, you still felt fatigued, even with sleeping in. “I’ll admit, I’m excited to be on your arm tonight, too..” You were excited and raring to go out, but at the same time, you were feeling down today. But power on you will...

“Of course, (y/n). You are the belle of the ball, afterall. It is an honor to be showing you off as mine.” Stefano grinned, slipping over to you and grabbing your face in his hands, giving your strawberry-saturated lips attention with his own. You chuckled into his kiss, and felt yourself shiver at his gloved touch, your legs instinctively wrapping around him and bringing him closer to you. 

“You hush…” you mumbled into him, flipping the book upside down on the table and bringing your arms around his neck. You felt one hand slide down to your waist, grabbing it firmly, while the other took place on your lower back. Heat rushed to your cheeks, Stefano’s lips attacking yours with need.

“Shall I mark you as mine for all to see tonight,  _ mia cara? _ ” He asked, pulling ever so slightly away from you to admire your blushing face with a devilish smile.

“They all know it’s look but don’t touch, Stefano..” You whisper, your (e/c) eyes looking right into his, feeling a heat building in-between your legs. “You have to be there earlier than I do, and..” 

“You deny me?” He gasped, pulling away with a dramatic flourish. “You break my heart,  _ signora _ !” You shake your head and laugh, unwrapping your legs and pulling stray pieces of hair out of your face. “Although.. You are correct.” Stefano glanced at the time, setting a hand on your thigh and gripping it. “But that will not stop me later,  _ mia dolce.” _ He winked, pulling away from you entirely and picking up his prints. “I will see you later at the  _ galleria _ , (y/n). Six at night.. Oh! Do wear the dress I have brought to you. It is on your bed.” The dark artist smiled. With that, he turned on his heel elegantly and made his way to the door, leaving you alone in your apartment again. You sighed as you watched Stefano leave, slipping out of your chair to return the strawberries to their place. Maybe a shower would wake you up.. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stanotte e la notte : tonights the night

**Author's Note:**

> il mio amore malato : my sick love  
> mia cara: my dear  
> pray for google translate to be right!


End file.
